Hello Lovely Observers,
Happy New Year (Letās catch up on this next week).
I started an email about 90ās sitcoms which took us to Friends, which took us to Chandler Bing, which led to Matthew Perry, and then to addiction.
I started another email on the topic of grief, for paid subscribers. I want to be able to write a little more openly and freely.
And I couldnāt seem to finish either (SINCE NOVEMBER!).
I feel rather stuck in writing. Or perhaps at an impasse (with myself?). Iād rather not be too heavy. Yet, this is where Iām at. And I canāt stand being too ātalk about the weather.ā
I want to share beautiful things. But I also want to talk about hard things (this is life beautiful + hard).
What I donāt want is to waste anyoneās time or be redundant.
At this stage of life (middle age, I suppose), we get a little bit sick of ourselves. Tired of talking about the same old struggles. A bit bored looking at ourselves and telling others all.the.things via our tiny glowing pocket dictators. Iād rather not be a bore.
But, honestly, nothing has been boring about my life in recent years. Many times, I found myself longing for boring. But also, I kind of hate boring. Some things in my life have settled down, yet processing those things is not boring. And with four children, nothing is ever really boring. Also, Iām learning new things; Iām making new friends; Iām finding new compassion for myself (and those same old struggles); Iām processing really difficult things, and little by little Iām finding new freedom.
My life has evolved and changed and my writing and creative outputs will reflect that. There is a part of me that wants to showcase beautiful homes and designs like I once did, but, now, there is more. I want to continue to help you create space for more peace and joy in your everyday lives, making sure what I share offers something of value to you. And, I also want to be brave and give a glimpse of what Iām learning (have recently learned).
Here is the thing about life . . . we donāt always get to choose what we get educated in, what lessons we have to learn, or our variety of pain and suffering. I do not want to be an expert on fear and anxiety, on addiction and recovery, on loss and grief. I use that word loosely (as loosely as every āexpertā influencerāsarcasm detected); Iām not calling myself an āexpertā in that I know everything about these issues (or anything for that matter). I have so much to learn. And the older I get, the less I know. I think what I may be trying to convey is that Iām well-traveled. And UGH! I never wanted to visit any of these destinations and know so much about their landscapes. But here I am, and rather jet-lagged. It is the name of my pain. The pins on my atlas. If any of these places happen to be roads you are traveling, I may be able to tell you what my journey was/is like and cheer you on to keep putting one foot in front of the other. To rest when needed, to climb on. And to remind you (or show you how to) to notice and create beauty in the midst of it all.
All pain must be processed and given a purpose.
We write what we know and what we experience. I try to be very careful about the timing of my writing. Especially when I am personally going through something. I prefer to write from a place of healing or from the other side. But even in those realms, Iād never be able to offer you all of the answers or wisdom. What I can offer you is the comfort of knowing you are not alone in your experiences. I can offer comradery and, hopefully, a little humor. I can offer you, perhaps, a new way to see your situation and insight. I can offer encouragement and share hope. And most important of all, I can point you toward a God who heals and restores and does not change!
So do we talk about Chandler and addiction? Do we dive into grief?
Do I share beautiful, creative, and inspirational content too?
Do I get into current events and the world we live in?
Should I share poems or stories?
Yes. I think yes to it all.
Iām not sure how to do this yet. Or when. There is war within me. A person who wants to create, write, and share and then another person who wants to hold everything close and live a very private life, to defy this very public world. I know grief is an electrical charge amplifying all of my thoughts and feelings, Iām aware. And Iām also discovering grief to be quite sacred. And with that comes more silence.
Iām glad you are here. And I thank you for reading my words (and my redundant meandering of trying to find my place here and in general. I imagine Iām not the only one).
If there is something youād like to hear about in my writingāIām all ears.
I didnāt plan to talk about pain today, and I wouldnāt call it an official post on pain. But, I hope it gives you pause to think about the landscape of your own life, today. The pushpins on your atlas. The pain youāve traveled and the expertise you never wished for.
Are you moving forward?
Have you found meaning? Are you looking for it? Open to seeing it?
Are you pursuing healing and freedom?
You are not alone.
Letās turn that pain into pain au choclat š„ š«
Loads of Love,
āMental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden: it is easier to say āMy tooth is achingā than to say āMy heart is broken.ā
ā C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain
Speaking of Pain au Chocolat, Trader Joeās choclate croissants are excellent (and cheap). We always have them on Christmas morning and on other special occasions.
Iāve been listening to this song on repeat. Itās so powerful.
This is on my wish list, now that Iām making matcha lattes everyday. Iāve had the kettle for years and love it.
For all of my fellow (or recovering) people-pleasers, this short clip is helpful. Do you agree?
*Iām light on the links today because I have a new post coming your way soon!
Stunning read. Thank you for being brave and showing up as you are.
Love you.
This spoke volumes to me:
Iām not sure how to do this yet. Or when. There is war within me. A person who wants to create, write, and share and then another person who wants to hold everything close and live a very private life, to defy this very public world. I know grief is an electrical charge amplifying all of my thoughts and feelings, Iām aware. And Iām also discovering grief to be quite sacred. And with that comes more silence.
Iāve been on a grieving journey for 4 years now. Somehow I believed it was shameful to cry when I was a child and the one who deserved all of my tears has been the hardest to grieve, my Mom. Part of that journey now includes overcoming father wounds (great book btw) and figuring out a lot of stuff at the ripe age of 59. Thank you for this well timed message Trina.